Free Winter Door by Isobelle Carmody Page A

head. “No, they wouldn’t do that because a lot of kids wouldn’t be able to contact their parents or get home.”
    “Maybe it’s about what happened last night. There was nothing on the news, but maybe the police don’t want to start a panic,” Logan said in a low voice. He waited while Rage put her coat and bag into her locker and took out her books and notes. Then he glanced around and whispered, “What if they figured it was a kid making that report and they’re going to try to get whoever it is to admit it.”
    “Maybe someone else saw them or maybe they—” Rage started. Then the bell rang and they had to run to the assembly.
    Despite what she had said, Rage would not have been surprised by a dismissal from school, given the dwindling numbers of students and teachers. But the headmistress just assigned teachers to groups of students. From now on, she told everyone, each day would begin with an assembly until the crisis was over. There were a few other general announcements of the sort usually made over the address system, then the students were given a day teacher. Rage’s was a short man with reddish hair like a fox’s; long, narrow teeth; and a nasty, flowery aftershave. His name was Mr. Pinke.
    Logan was put into her group as well. In spite of everything, Rage grinned to think that two days earlier this would have dismayed her.
    As soon as they were in the classroom, Mr. Pinke gave them a list of old exam questions, warning that talking would result in additional questions. Usually this sort of approach would have made Logan rebel until he was thrown out, but today he said nothing, though neither did he work. Rage could feel his impatience for the class to end and was oddly warmed by the certainty that he wanted to stay in class with her. She was no less impatient for the end of the period because she wanted to tell him about the midnight visitor to Winnoway. At last the bell rang. Mr. Pinke made them sit until he had collected the sheets, and then he had them walk out single file, like little kids.
    “I hate teachers like him,” Logan said when they were in the hall.
    “I thought you hated all teachers,” Rage said, but lightly.
    “No, I don’t.” He gave her a surprised look and she bit back a laugh of disbelief. “So what are we going to do?”
    “Library?” Rage said.
    Logan gave her a sharp look, then shrugged. They walked in silence because half of the school population was in the hallways. Only when they were between the stacks did Logan speak.
    “Why do you suppose the head didn’t mention those animals during the assembly?” he asked. “It’s like she didn’t even know about them.”
    “Maybe the police didn’t tell her,” Rage answered. “Maybe they don’t do anything if a person calls but doesn’t say who they are.”
    “What about the bike-shed roof?”
    “It was snowing. By the time the police showed, there were probably no footprints. They’d have thought it was the snow buildup that broke the Perspex.”
    Logan nodded, frowning. “You know, I’ve been thinking of those things a lot. Maybe they weren’t boars or wolves but some sort of hybrid. They could be mutations caused by experimental chemicals dumped illegally into the high mountains out of helicopters. Maybe those things have been living up there for generations with no one ever knowing until now, and the weather is bringing them down.”
    “Sort of like teenage mutant ninja beasts?” she asked.
    Logan looked angry for a moment, then he laughed. “Yeah, I guess it is pretty wild.” He stopped suddenly and she saw that he was staring at the Librarians’ Recommendations shelf. “I remember that book. It was about these four kids who went through the back of a wardrobe to another world.” Rage saw that he was looking at a battered copy of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, which she had read with Mam a few years back. “I really liked it,” Logan went on, almost dreamily, “but I never knew